Gravity
by firstcatfish
Summary: Sam considers the reasons he never looked for Dean. Set in Season 8. One Shot.


"Why didn't you look for me?" You throw that in my face over and over…one of my biggest sins in your eyes. Maybe it is. I don't know. I do know you probably don't want to know that answer to that question. I wish I didn't know. I wish I didn't know how far I would go to get you back…what I would do. I do know, though. And I knew too that even if I did get you back, which was a big IF, I would probably lose you forever anyway.

If you think about it, it's kind of obvious. What happened the last time I lost you? I spent almost a full year looking for ways to get you out of your deal and failed. Then I spent nearly 3 months looking for ways to get you out of Hell and failed. Is it any wonder I took the only path left to me…that I chose Ruby? She offered revenge…she offered purpose. In essence, she offered a shadow of you, and if a shadow was all I could get, I'd take it. By the time you got back, I was in too far. I knew how you would feel about the path I was taking…so I lied, and in so doing nearly lost you permanently.

Looking back on those days is painful. I didn't think that things could get any worse, any darker for me…until I lost you again. I realize that the first time, I wasn't alone. I had Bobby, if I could bring myself to face him. I even had Ruby, though you would probably say that was worse than being alone, and maybe you'd be right. I just know that I didn't know the meaning of "alone" until Dick Roman's office…until Crowley took Kevin and told me that this was it…this time you weren't coming back…this time I was well and truly alone.

I'm not sure how I got out of there. There were still dozens of Leviathan around. I think they must have been just as lost as I was…just as disoriented by the loss of their leader, their focus. Somehow I made it back to the Impala and we both managed to limp out of there. Her front fender was smashed, both headlights were out and there was some damage to the body, but she was in surprisingly good shape for what we had been through…better shape than I was in.

I think I just drove for a while. I was seeing everything through a thick fog…didn't know where I was…what I was supposed to be doing. Probably shock. It wore off eventually, and I pulled over to consider my options. Research is always first, right? Know what you're dealing with. Know what you have to do to get the job done. The only problem was, after hours of thinking things through, I could only see two possible paths and they both scared me to death.

Situation: You were gone. I was alone. No resources, no friends or even allies, no help. Just me…and I didn't have a clue where you were or where to begin looking. For all I knew, you could be in either Heaven or Hell. Goodness knows we'd been to both. I never even considered Purgatory…although I realize now I should have considering how all this started in the first place.

I knew one person who probably knew where you were. The same one who also had our reluctant prophet….Crowley. If I could get to him, I could solve two problems…get Kevin back and figure out where to start searching for you.

Problem: Crowley had an army of demons between him and me, and I had nothing but some holy water, a good memory for Latin exorcisms, and no hope of back up. I knew that probably wouldn't matter to you. If our positions were reversed, you'd go in for the Hail Mary, even if it meant going out in a blaze of glory. I'd almost decided that was what I would have to do, when the thought occurred to me that there was another way. I hated myself for even thinking of it, even considering it as an option. Last time I'd tried that, I'd nearly destroyed the world and even worse, almost destroyed my relationship with you. And yet, the alternative was to give up, to lose you forever. I'd patched things up with you once. I could do it again. But I couldn't do that with you dead.

I had only to find a couple of demons, drain them dry and my path to Crowley would open up. I had no doubt that I could find him and even less doubt that he would survive the experience. Alastair hadn't been able to resist my torture, and I knew that breaking Crowley would be even easier. I'd get Kevin back, find you, and it would all be over. Suddenly, I wanted that more than anything I had ever wanted anything in my life. I hadn't felt the siren call of the demon blood since I came back from Hell. I'd thought it was gone for good…that maybe Hell had cleansed me of my corrupt blood. I know differently now, because at that moment I felt the craving stronger than anything I have felt since you locked me in the panic room. And I knew I wasn't strong enough to fight it.

Until I remembered your face…your face when you found out that I was drinking the demon blood…your face when I chose Ruby over you...your face when I opened the cage and let Lucifer out…your face when you told me you couldn't trust me anymore and that it would be better if I just left. And I realized that you would rather die permanently than be saved by a monster. And monster I would become if I chose this path; there was no doubt about that. No. The option of going out in a blaze of glory, just me against a horde of demons, was no longer an option. I was too weak…too close to the monster inside of me. I knew that if I even got close to a demon, I wouldn't be able to resist. I might get you back, but this time, there would be no forgiveness, no reconciliation. I would lose you regardless and I knew which loss I couldn't live with.

And so I came to option 2.

Situation: You were gone. I was alone. I was pretty sure I couldn't live without you. You and I have orbited each other like the sun and moon for so long, I felt myself spinning aimlessly off into space without you there to center me, to pull me in. I knew it wouldn't be long before I gave in and reverted to option 1. If I didn't want to become a monster, then, there was only one thing to do. If I couldn't find you and bring you back, I would join you. I was pretty sure that if I died, my soul would find its way to you. The alternative was unthinkable.

Before I knew it, I'd made my choice. Not much of a choice, but the only one I had, or so I thought. Normally, I might have chosen a gun to the mouth, but you always said I have a flair for the dramatic and you're not wrong. Instead, I loaded up on your favorite whiskey and drove for 6 hours until I hit the Sierra Nevadas. See, the key was to find a road remote enough that I wouldn't hurt anybody, then drink just enough to make this possible without drinking too much and passing out. I also needed a cliff high enough to make sure I didn't walk away from the crash. I didn't think I could bear failing again. I found my road, started drinking and turned on your favorite tape to max volume. I was finally ready.

It's funny how fate intervenes to mess up the best laid plans. Or maybe it was God. He's intervened in our lives enough times, saved us from dying or brought us back after we were already dead. I don't think it was the angels. They aren't that creative. Maybe it was just blind luck. Regardless, I stumbled onto option 3 without even realizing it.

I hit a dog.

One minute I had the road to myself and my path to oblivion was clear, the next there was a flash of brown and white, a thump, a sharp yelp and I was fighting to keep the car on the road. I don't know why I stopped. I should have kept going, kept to the plan, but all I could think about was whether I had killed it. No one was supposed to die on this run except me. I couldn't bear the thought of another innocent dying because of me, even if that innocent was just a stupid animal.

I got out of the car and ran back to the lump of fur lying pathetically on the asphalt. I could see it was a dog when I got closer, and it was still alive. A slight whimper escaped it and I could see its chest rising and falling. I approached it carefully, aware that an injured animal could be dangerous. That strikes me as funny now, considering I was planning to die that night anyway. But if I was going to die, I wanted to die on my terms, as a final tribute to you, not mauled by an injured animal.

Then I met its gaze. Its eyes were open and it was panting as it looked straight at me. There was no violence there, just…trust. I don't know why, but it trusted me to fix this, to take care of it. I was crying by then. I hadn't cried since I lost you, but something about that pathetic lump of fur looking up at me with innocence and blind faith that I could take care of it, hit something deep inside. I should have just grabbed my gun and put it out of its misery. Instead, I was picking it up and putting it in the passenger seat of the Impala. Throughout the transfer, the dog never stopped looking at me. Never once growled or fought me.

Somehow I made it to the next town and found the veterinary hospital. My plan was to drop the dog off and leave, go back to the mountains, finish what I started. Once I delivered the dog into their hands, my job was over, but I couldn't leave. I couldn't go without knowing if the dog was going to be okay or if I was going to have another innocent death on my conscience. And so I stayed and in so doing so, sealed my fate.

I met Amelia for the first time when she came out to tell me the dog was going to be okay. The injuries were serious, and it would require a lot of care for the next couple of weeks, but the dog would make it. Relief set in, and my mind immediately returned to that lonely mountain road and my unfinished business there. Amelia wouldn't have it, though. When she found out I was planning to leave the dog with her and go about my business, she lit into me and began to rip me a new one. It might have been funny if I wasn't so shocked. Before I knew it, I was promising her that I would take responsibility for the dog at least until it was better and I could find a home for it. The only other option was to allow it to be euthanized and that would defeat the purpose of saving it in the first place.

You weren't going anywhere, I rationalized. I'd take care of the dog for a week or two. Find someone to take it off my hands, and then get back to where I'd left off. I found a cheap motel that accepted pets where I could lay up for a few days. I used the last of our cash, figuring I didn't need it where I was going anyway. I didn't count on medical costs, food, and pet supplies though. I needed a temporary job and the motel manager was quick enough to offer me one when he found out I was good at fixing things. (There's irony you would appreciate. I'm good at fixing things that don't matter.)

I met Amelia for the second time when I was called in to fix the garbage disposal in her rooms. I found out that she was living in the motel, just like I was. There were other things we had in common as well, though I wouldn't discover those until much later. All I knew at the time was that I was drawn to her, like a fly to honey or a magnet to metal. Or perhaps…gravity. I was a planet spinning off into space after losing my orbit. She was the same. When we found each other, we slipped almost effortlessly into a new orbit and I realized that there was a third option. It wouldn't be easy. In fact, it would probably be harder than either of the first 2 options because it meant turning my back on you once again; but I wasn't alone anymore, and I realized I was strong enough to do it…strong enough to make the choice I thought you would want me to make.

I chose Life.

I'm sorry that you see this as a betrayal, but considering that the alternatives were turning into a blood sucking monster (another irony considering your choice of traveling companions) or committing suicide, I still think I made the right choice. I'd do it again if I had it to do over…because I've finally realized that there are worse fates than losing you.


End file.
